Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
by Lady China
Summary: Harry had always wondered what made someone go 'bad' and why some people do the things they do... Abused, Mad Harry awaits you...


Warnings: Mentioned rape, LV/HP, Dark Harry… that's it. I think. Came a lot darker then I intended… enjoy!

Word Count: 1031

Harry had always wondered what made someone go 'bad' and why some people did the things they do. He blamed it on abused childhoods, or, at least, the voices in his head did.

_'They made you like this_,' they always said, murmuring quietly in the dark corners of his mind. _'They abused you, he raped you_!' They were always there, the voices. When he woke up in the mornings, when he sat in class, when he asked Ron to pass him the salt in the Great Hall. At first, he could ignore them. He was just so happy- he got away from them, he was free! - But the he returned to the Dursleys for the summer, and everything returned; the doubts, the beatings, Vernon coming to his room every night…

Shutting the voices Second Year was a bit harder. When he first heard the _'Rip… Kill…'_ coming from the walls he thought he had finally gone insane. (Not that the alternative- a giant snake roaming the pipes waiting to kill someone- was any better.)

Confronting all those Dementors Third Year was the most horrible thing that ever happened to him (and that is saying something)- the cold, undeniable dear left him shaking for quiet some time. Just the thought of an actual Godfather- of never having to return to the Dursleys- let him keep his Patronous. Voldemort's laugh echoed in his mind…

Fourth Year went by in much the same manner. Sometimes, he just couldn't take the voices anymore. Curling into a ball in the corner of the Astronomy Tower seemed to help. The cold and the rain didn't bother him.

Fifth Year was the serious breaking point. That summer was particularly nasty- Vernon decided Dudley was old enough to learn the delecate art of shackling Harry to the headboard and fucking him raw. They took turns fucking him the whole summer. He flinched slightly every time someone touched him for the first few weeks of school. Ron's sweaty hand on his shoulder, arm, leg made the voices shout. The Astronomy Tower became his refuge. Every night, after everyone fell asleep, he put his Invisibility Cloak on and slipped out of bed. He thought a lot, sometimes falling asleep, sometimes not. The nightmares were enough to keep him awake. He embraced the voices, and started talking quietly to himself- to the voices- when no one was around. He could let them think him crazy, now, could he? Voldemort's vibrating laugh in his mind no longer made him shiver. Instead, he gave a little smile of recognition. His own laugh sounded more and more like that every day.

One chilly day in December he went down to the Chamber of Secrets. The dead Basilisk was still there- lying on the ground. He banished it. He had looked around- he didn't have much time to do that, Second Year. He found a hidden bedroom, complete with a study and a private library, with its own ghost bound to it. Salazar Slytherin at first had been mad at him for interrupting his slumber, but after a while Harry grew on him. Harry told him everything about everything; his OWLs, the Order, Voldemort, Vernon and his twisted childhood, the madness.

Slytherin became his mentor and shelter. He came down to the Chamber whenever he could afford it, even just for a few minutes. Salazar taught him how to fight, and the Dark Arts. Practicing the Dark Arts in the Chamber of Secrets with Salazar Slytherin felt like greeting an old forgotten friend, like coming home.

Salazar showed him a lot of secret passageways around the school and into the Chamber. He also started telling him about another young boy, Marvolo, he called him, who was much like him.

Harry, in his half- crazy half- dazed state hadn't connected Slytherin's Marvolo to Voldemort, and fell a little in love with this invisible witty boy that got shoved into hard life way too early, just like him. He didn't know it was love, of course- he wouldn't recognize love, real love. But it was just that- he fell in love- even if it was a bit twisted and not really healthy.

Pretending became second nature to Harry. Pretending to be interested in what Hermione had to say, pretending Ron's chubby hand didn't repulse him. He taught the DA every now and then- Salazar said it was good to socialize as to not arouse old Dumbledore's suspicion too much. It was easy; he had mastered all those silly spells months ago.

His own life became but a dream, whereas his whole reality became the stories Salazar would tell him after each session od gruesome training.

When he at last came to the Atrium at the ministry- he had dodged all the Death Eaters like flies- and faced Voldemort again, he was shocked.

No longer did he see a dead corpse with the face of a snake, a monster straight out of a child's worst nightmare, but a strong man that came from an abused child. When Voldemort- Marvolo, he realized- tried to possess him, he let him, even though he had learnt how to fend it off and could do it with no more than a thought. Marvolo stared at him with way too many emotions in his eyes to match his totally blank face and whispered in his mind, "What happened to you?"

Harry smiled. It wasn't really a question, after all.

All his memories passed in his mind for Voldemort to see, and he watched them silently, at first becoming angry, for what happened to Harry reminded him strongly of his own childhood, and knowing that someone else suffered as he had…

Voldemort then reached the more recent memories- Harry's frequent visits to the Chamber, his talks and training with Salazar, his fascination with Marvolo and the Dark Arts..

When Voldemort- or Marvolo, it didn't really matter anymore- looked at him after he finished viewing all of him memories, really looked at Harry, his brows arranged in a frown, his black eyes asking a million questions, Harry looked back at him, and for the first time, Harry found Voldemort beautiful.

And then he kissed him.

THE END

Love y'all. Hope you enjoyed… whatever that was. Wrote it about half a year ago and just found it!


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